


Cambiare

by Somedrunkpirate



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Communication, Conversations, Fluff, Geralt manages to be sweet, Jaskier muses on the nature of Barding, Just in general, Love, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Sweet, Unspoken Love, gratitude, in his way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25287340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somedrunkpirate/pseuds/Somedrunkpirate
Summary: Cambiare [It.]: To change; i.e. to change to a new instrument, etc.“Do you think you can change the world with your singing?”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 56
Kudos: 403





	Cambiare

Breathless from the long performance, Jaskier flings himself down beside Geralt on the rickety wooden bench. Geralt raises a single eyebrow at him, but he does not protest when Jaskier snags his ale from the table and takes a deep drink. 

“Ah,” Jaskier says. “I needed that.” 

“Hmm.” Geralt motions to the innkeeper and says, “Two more of those. And some meat.”

“Add that damned peach tart, please,” Jaskier says quickly. “Been smelling it all night. It was absolute torture.” 

The innkeeper barks a laugh and nods. “Be right there, sirs.”

Geralt takes out a satchel, coin clinking at the movement. But the innkeeper holds up his hands.

“No, no, on the house. It has been a long while since we had such a performance, and it would be my honour to provide to Geralt of Rivia. It is your doing that the village is finally safe again.” 

“Hmm.” 

“Thank you,” Jaskier says heartily, flicking Geralt’s thigh under the table. 

“Thank you,” Geralt huffs, “for your generosity.”

The innkeeper beams, and scuttles off. 

“What a lovely fellow,” Jaskier says, and then finally allows himself to collapse face first on the table, completely boneless and exhausted, but satisfied. 

“Do you need a nap?” Geralt asks, wry. It would’ve sounded snarky in any other voice, but Jaskier hears his amusement nonetheless. 

Jaskier turns his head so he can give a glare appropriate to the situation. The effect is likely sabotaged by the fact his face is still smushed against the wood. 

“For all you mock my trade, you sure can’t deny the constitution it takes to keep a crowd in high spirits for hours on end. I can barely feel my legs.” 

“No one forced you to hold court for the whole night.”

“It is what I do, Geralt. You get swallowed by monsters on occasion, I have blisters on my fingers from sheep-gut strings. We all make our sacrifices. But it is worth it, is it not?”

“Hmm.” 

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “I might not be saving people, but I do provide some joy and delight. Things in short supply, these days.”

“Is that all?” 

“What?” 

“You don’t just play songs. You write them. So is that all?” 

Jaskier turns his head away again, feeling caught out. “Well if it puts coin in our pockets, and spreads stories of your good deeds, then maybe something more than joy comes out of it. Tonight our actions got us a meal, at least.”

There is a long moment of silence, in which the innkeeper returns with their meal and ale, and Jaskier picks himself up just enough to be able to eat. It is only when the plates are empty that Geralt speaks again. 

“Do you think you can change the world with your singing?”

“I— I can change minds. Some minds, about some things. But to change the world, the volume of minds is key, and I don’t know if I ever could reach such heights. So whether my music changes someone’s mind on whether or not they should dance today, or entice them to sing along and drink another ale, is kind of irrelevant. I suppose it depends on your definition of a changed world.” 

“Hmm.”

“Is the world not changed by the existence of my songs, in itself? It would be another world without them, wouldn’t it?” 

Geralt huffs. “A better one, maybe.” 

Jaskier punches him in the shoulder. “I will disregard that comment. But now that I think on it. Have I changed the world by composing a love song -- on commission, of course, --- that leads to a union between two people, and children and a happy life? Another bard could have done the same. Or did I change the world by reminding a lord of an ancient myth through my songs sung on his birthday, leading to a whole army to bear a white stag on their breast— even though the white stag was never in the original myth. I was just missing a syllable.”

“You influenced something, at least.”

“I suppose, though, again, another bard could have done the same. And what does a banner change in the grand scheme of things? Whether his men march under a stag or an owl does not change their actions.” 

Jaskier sighs and takes a sip of his ale. “I suppose any bard can provide the same laughter and dance I do, with nary a mind changed. I have been able to affect the world in some ways, change some people’s days and maybe their interests or passing fancies. But whether I changed the world at large? It depends on your definition of change, and personally I think not. I hope I might some day. But I don’t know if I ever will.”

“Hmm,” Geralt says-- disagrees. “You changed mine.” 

“Ha. Yes. For the worse, like you said.”

Geralt touches Jaskier’s shoulder for just a moment, as he says, low. “You changed their minds about me.” 

There is a momentary silence in which Jaskier loses all ability to think. 

Geralt is just watching him with a quiet intensity that Jaskier doesn’t know how to interpret. More so when it seems to… soften, over time. 

They both startle when the innkeeper is suddenly at the table, shattering the tension completely. 

“You have finished, I see. Everything to your wishes?”

Geralt nods. 

“That is good to hear. Thank you again for all you did for us. I hope you pass through again soon. Let me know if you need anything.” 

The innkeeper scuttles off with another bright grin, humming something familiar. 

_Toss a coin to your witcher_

Realisation catches in Jaskier’s throat, but with exhaustion on his heels, he can’t formulate much more than ‘oh.’

His rare moment of speechlessness doesn’t seem to faze Geralt, however, because he allows Jaskier to lean on him while walking towards their rooms. As they part, Gerald’s hand lingers for a moment too long on Jaskier’s waist. His gentle touch feels like an unspoken thank you.

And maybe, like something else. Another change in their world. 

Jaskier supposes he’ll have to write a song for it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have written a ficlet. Those who know me will know how much of a miracle this is. I hoped you enjoyed this one!


End file.
